Reunited After 25 Years 13: Lover's Spat

She could only stand and stare as Anton turned and walked away. She simply couldn't believe the turn events had taken, and how swiftly it had happened. She felt as if perhaps she'd never really known Anton at all.

To try to take her mind off things, Andrea decided to visit a flea market in a nearby town. She hadn't been to it in a long time, but she'd often found really good bargains on household items and collectibles there in the past. She'd planned to take Anton there eventually. He'd probably never even heard of the concept of flea markets. When that thought crossed her mind, she had to swallow a lump in her throat.

In one of the stalls, she saw a set of dolls that fit one into another just like the dolls Darya had given her. She asked the lady running the stall what they were called.

"Those are matryoshka dolls," the woman told her. "Would you like to see them?"

"No, thank you," Andrea said. "I already have a set."

Andrea bought books, a CD, earrings, stationery, and craft items. She had a lot of fun and managed to forget her troubles for a couple of hours. She had an oyster sandwich for lunch and then drove back to Gloucester.

Driving past the motel, she began to feel the sadness settle over her once again. She felt lonelier than she had in a very long time. Would she ever see Anton again? Did she even want to?

Later that evening she found herself wandering along the same stretch of beach where she, Anton, and Anna White had frolicked all those years ago. She saw the rock upon which they had sat when they'd kissed for the first time.

Andrea sat on the rock and cried her heart out. If only he could have stayed the first time he'd come...if only things could have been different...but it was too late now, wasn't it? They were two different people with two different lives, different sets of priorities, different loyalties...it could never, ever be simple again, could it?

Suddenly Andrea felt a set of arms around her, holding her tight. She looked up into Anton's clear blue eyes, and he gently brushed the tears away with his thumb.

"It is all right, Andrea," he murmured. "Polina is gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" asked Andrea.

"I told Dasha that she must choose, Polina or Denny. She cannot have both. She chose Denny. Polina went back to Russia." Gently Anton stroked Andrea's cheek. "Dearest Andrea, I cannot bear to see you so sad. Come back to the motel with me. I will make you feel better."

Andrea took his hand, and together they walked back to the motel. Once there, Andrea sat on the sofa while Anton made her a white Russian, then poured himself a shot of vodka and sat down beside her.

"I thought you were angry at me," said Andrea.

"Oh, no," Anton quickly assured her. "I understand completely. You are concerned for Denny's happiness, just as I am for Dasha's. That is as it should be." He grinned and put his arm around her. She snuggled up against him, hesitantly at first, then more boldly.

After awhile Denny and Darya came in, smiling with flushed faces, obviously very much in love.

Andrea greeted her son, and he greeted her back.

"We can only stay for a minute. I'm taking Dasha bowling," he said.

Darya kissed her father good-bye, and they left.

"Was Dasha angry about having to give Polina up?" asked Andrea.

"Oh, no." Anton chuckled. "She was more relieved. You see, Dasha had a very hard time when her mother died. She meet Polina, and they became very good friends. From there it went to more. Dasha come to America, met Denny, and she said to me, 'Papa, I am in love.' But then, Polina wanted to come. Dasha said all right, I don't want to hurt her feelings. Polina came, and the old feelings returned. Dasha didn't want to hurt anyone. It was very hard for her to tell Polina she loves Denny now, but I made her do it."

Andrea, reeling from emotional overload, didn't quite know what to say. Anton looked at her with eyes soft with concern.

"Are you all right, Alison? Did you have a good morning?"

"I had a very nice morning, thanks. I went to the flea market in the next town over. I found some really cool stuff. I'll show it to you sometime, if you like."

"That is good. I want you to be happy, Andrea, because you make me so very happy. I thought I would never smile again, but you make me smile. You are a wonderful woman who lives in a wonderful country. A crazy man can stand on a street corner shouting and handing out pamphlets; he is crazy, yes, but he is also free. No one will arrest him for it. You go in a store, and there is plenty to chose from, no shortages, no long lines. No fear of the KGB, no need to worry about people watching you, spying on you. It is a wonderful country. I am very happy here. I never want to leave."

"But don't you miss your family?"

"Of course I miss them. Maybe someday, they can come here too."

"I love you, Anton." When she squinted her eyes just so, she could just about see the fresh, innocent face of the boy of twenty she'd fallen for all those years ago. As he pressed his lips to hers and she felt the now-familiar passion flow through her body, she could almost imagine that she was eighteen again.